


no competition

by thunderylee



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: He’s not competing, dammit. He just wants to win.





	no competition

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo (competition).

“I’m onto you,” Yamada says in a low voice, and Keito just raises an eyebrow because Yamada is practically in his lap and there’s not even a camera.

“Didn’t think I was your type,” Keito scoffs, doing nothing to shove the slightly younger man off of him. Yamada’s not at the top of Keito’s flirt list, but he’s not about to push him away either. Besides, he smells good.

“Funny you say that, because I think we have the _same_ type.”

Keito doesn’t know what the fuck this guy is talking about until Yamada puts his hands on either side of Keito’s head and points his line of sight right at the tallest member of their subunit. “Yuuto?”

“We like them tall and lanky, apparently,” Yamada says with a sigh, laying his head on Keito’s shoulder.

“What are you even saying?” Keito asks, shrugging him off. If he’s not interested in Keito, he doesn’t need to be so damn close. “If you like Yuuto, go for it. He’d probably be thrilled to get some that isn’t his own hand.”

Yamada hums unconvincingly. “You don’t _really_ mean that, do you? I mean, everyone knows you two are attached at the hip.”

“He’s my friend,” Keito says defensively. “That doesn’t mean I want to screw him.”

“So it’s okay if I do?” Yamada asks, swinging his head right in front of Keito and grinning at him with heavily lined eyes.

Something twitches in Keito’s face. “It’s not my business where he sticks it.”

“Oh, please.” Yamada gives him a knowing look. “You and I both know that I’d be the one sticking it.”

Keito shakes his head, shoves Yamada away from him, and gets to his feet. “You’re gross. Go do what you want—just don’t tell me about it.”

“Keep lying to yourself, Okamoto,” Yamada calls after him. “We’ll see who the winner is here.”

“We’re not competing!” Keito yells, earning the attention of the other members of the group, at whom he just nods his head before going outside. He needs to breathe something other than Yamada’s slutty cologne.

*

“Yama-chan has been awfully nice to me lately,” Yuuto says at the gym later, when he’s spotting Keito on the weight bench.

If he notices that Keito wheezes more than usual while lifting the barbell, he doesn’t let on. “Probably wants to screw you.”

Yuuto makes an interesting face at that, like he’s never once considered the possibility. “You think?”

“He’d screw anyone,” Keito hisses, lifting a little faster. “It must be your turn.”

That has Yuuto wrinkling his nose and Keito feels better, at least until Yuuto speaks again. “He’s not nearly as bad as you.”

“What do I have to do with this?” Keito asks huffily. “I’m not screwing anybody in the group.”

“Yeah, but at your school…” Yuuto starts, then sighs. “Look, I don’t care what you do, or _who_ you do, but you have no right to talk about anyone else being promiscuous when we can’t go to the _market_ without running into some girl you slept with and never called again.”

Keito just grumbles, finishing his reps and removing some of the weights for Yuuto. He watches his friend’s face as he benches and realizes all too late that he was comparing it to what it might look like in a different situation, a more intimate one, then rushes to shake himself out of it while Yuuto is none the wiser.

That night he dreams of Yamada making Yuuto look like that and wakes up with his knuckles hurting and a dent in his mattress.

*

“Is there something going on between Yama-chan and Yuuto?” Chinen asks brightly, and Keito chokes on his noodles.

“ _No_ ,” he answers, and now Chinen is looking at him oddly.

“Are you sure?”

He points to where Yamada is draped over Yuuto’s shoulders, smiling at whatever undoubtedly ridiculous thing Yuuto is saying, and Keito seethes. He glares so hard that Yamada looks behind him, flicks out his tongue like he’s going to lick Yuuto’s ear, and smirks at Keito before turning his attention back to the unsuspecting Yuuto.

“I don’t know what stupid competition you have going on here, but he’s winning,” Chinen points out.

“We’re not competing!” Keito says again.

Chinen rolls his eyes. “And people say I’m the weird one.”

*

There are two things that Yamada’s super serious about, and working is the other one, so he backs off for the next couple weeks while they have concerts. Keito relaxes without worrying about whether Yamada’s going to pop up and very obviously flirt with Yuuto right in front of him, which of course goes unnoticed by Yuuto. Yamada could give Yuuto a lap dance and Yuuto would just laugh and think it was all for fun. Being raised on Johnny’s does that to a guy.

This also means that Yuuto thinks nothing of it when Yamada crawls into bed with him, under the pretense of someone’s snores keeping him awake. Keito tries to call bullshit, because Yamada’s the deepest sleeper he knows next to Chinen, but Yuuto actually snaps at him for being mean and Keito just rolls over in his bed and ignores the sounds of gross snuggling.

“What is your problem, anyway?” Yuuto confronts him the next morning after Yamada returns to his own room for his twelve-step beauty routine.

“I’m trying to protect you!” Keito explodes, because it’s entirely too early and the hotel coffee sucks. “Yamada is like a slut monster whose sole purpose is to steal the virtue of anyone he can sink his dick into.”

Yuuto puts his hands on his pockets in total bitch stance. “For someone who wants to get in my pants so badly, he’s sure passed on plenty of opportunities. Namely when he was in my bed last night.”

“That’s because I was there,” Keito retorts, though he knows his argument isn’t that strong. Yamada would probably do it on stage if management let him.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous,” Yuuto tells him, and Keito blinks at the accusation. “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but it’s my life and I’ll decide who I let do…things to me. Okay?”

“Whatever,” Keito mutters as he grabs his bag and disappears into the shower.

*

Then Yuuto gets a cold. Yamada’s not stupid enough to risk his voice just to one-up Keito in this stupid competition that’s not really a competition because Keito is not competing, okay, so Keito’s the one to stay by Yuuto’s side and wake him up every two hours to take medicine. Yuuto is the biggest whiny crybaby when he’s sick, which is somehow endearing. Keito keeps laughing at the pitiful grumbling and Yuuto gets mad for about ten seconds before passing out on his shoulder.

Yamada looks like he’s about to step into nuclear warfare instead of their hotel room when he comes to check on Yuuto, mask and hoodie in place despite being the middle of summer. “He looks worse,” he says to Keito with big eyes, which is all Keito can see of his face.

“He’ll be fine,” Keito says, rubbing at Yuuto’s back subconsciously. “If he’d stop being a little bitch and take his medicine, it would go away faster, but he doesn’t like how it tastes.”

Yamada rolls his eyes. “What a spoiled brat.”

“I’m right here, you assholes,” Yuuto says, his voice completely stuffed up and nasal.

“We know,” Keito and Yamada answer in unison, followed by laughter when Yuuto half-heartedly tries to smack Keito over his shoulder.

“Mmm, that feels nice,” Yuuto says, and Keito notices that his hand has moved up to thread through Yuuto’s hair.

Yamada just lingers in the doorway, but Keito knows that underneath the mask he has the biggest told-you-so smirk. “Shut up,” Keito tells him. “And go away, he needs to sleep.”

Naturally Yamada doesn’t move, watching as Keito’s gentle touch lures Yuuto back to a very wheezy slumber. “Take care of him, okay? We need him.”

“Of course,” Keito says, then flashes a smirk of his own. “Looks like I won this round.”

Yamada blinks. “I thought we weren’t competing.”

Keito’s still thinking about that when Yamada slips out of the room.

*

Keito makes it until the last night of the last show before losing it. “Can you kindly get the fuck off of him, Yamada?”

Thankfully it doesn’t happen on stage, but there are a fair amount of people at the after-party and Keito would be the first to say that Yamada hadn’t even been doing anything particularly scandalous. Yabu and Hikaru were dancing closer together than Yamada had been standing next to Yuuto, but what had set Keito off was Yuuto slinging his arm around Yamada.

“Something you want to say, British boy?” Yamada confronts him, stepping up in Keito’s space like he’s not shorter than him, and Keito feels bad for the fraction of a second it takes him to notice Yuuto’s face. He’d expected it to be angry, or disappointed, or some type of unfavorable reaction, but Yuuto’s head is tilted in curiosity.

“Not to you,” Keito tells Yamada, and Yamada’s smile is so out of place that it almost confuses him. “Yuuto, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuuto replies. He’s probably the calmest person in the room, though Chinen looks like he’s got it all figured out as Keito leads Yuuto outside onto the balcony and away from prying eyes.

“Yamada’s such a meddling pain in the ass,” Keito blurts out. Even if he had planned what he was going to say, that would not be at the top of it, but Yuuto just looks amused and waits for Keito to continue. “This is all his fault, you know? If he hadn’t started this stupid competition, none of this would have happened.”

“What were you competing for?” Yuuto asks carefully.

Keito looks at him, really _looks_ at him, noticing his soft eyes and friendly face that has grown so manly over the years. “You.”

“Me?” Yuuto repeats, pointing into his own face. “Why would you bother doing that?”

Keito frowns at the wording, like Yuuto thinks he’s not worth competing over. “Because Yamada said he liked you, and I…”

He trails off, and something seems to click in Yuuto’s head, because he leans back against the railing and fails at looking haughty. “Well, who won?”

“I think that’s for you to decide,” Keito tells him, his heart pounding in his chest as he realizes where this conversation has headed.

The last thing is expects is for Yuuto to laugh, completely breaking what little facade he’d managed to create as he scoots down the railing to where Keito is staring out into the night. “If that’s the case, then there was never any competition.”

Keito turns his head and finds Yuuto entirely too close, staring at him with a small smile. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, well.” Yuuto shrugs and leans back again. “If you don’t like me, then I guess Yama-chan wins by default.”

Keito’s blood boils at that verdict, but he keeps his calm. “And if I do?”

“Then of course it’s you,” Yuuto says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the universe, more than the sky being blue and the grass green. “So I guess it’s really up to you to decide.”

“Ugh, fuck you,” Keito grumbles, and Yuuto laughs out loud until it’s muted by Keito’s arm around his waist, forehead pressing into his shoulder. “I know you have to play it up for the fans, but I really don’t like the idea of his hands on you any other time.”

Yuuto leans down to speak into Keito’s hair. “Are you going to put your hands on me then?”

“Yuuto,” Keito gasps, but he grabs onto the taller man more tightly, possessively. “Do you want me to?”

“Yeah,” Yuuto replies, and Keito’s fingers squeeze the fabric of Yuuto’s shirt. “I have for a long time.”

Keito’s heart soars at that. “You should have said something.”

“I didn’t think you were interested, what with all of those university girls.”

“Forget them,” Keito says, finally looking up into Yuuto’s eyes, which are much darker than before. “I don’t want them. I want you.”

Yuuto smiles and licks his lips. “Then you win.”

It’s Yuuto who leans down to kiss him, pressing those wet lips to Keito’s own and tilting his head to feel more. Keito pulls Yuuto the rest of the way towards him as he kisses back, losing himself in the feeling of Yuuto’s strong arms that wrap around his neck and Yuuto’s hot mouth that gradually welcomes his tongue. It’s possibly the hottest kiss Keito has ever had, and he’s kissed a lot of people in the past couple years.

“Get a room,” Chinen grumbles as he lights up a cigarette.

Keito tries to kick him, but the little brat is too far away. Instead he kisses Yuuto harder, fingers sliding up into the soft black hair that has Yuuto moaning faintly into their kiss, and Keito could give a fuck who is out there with them when Yuuto’s making noises like that because of him.

He forgets about Chinen until he has to break for air, his lungs unsatisfied with the small inhales they’re getting against Yuuto’s cheek. Chinen’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching them shamelessly, and Keito rolls his eyes. “You just going to stand there and watch?”

Chinen shrugs. “Sure, why not? It’s a hell of a lot more exciting than watching Yabu and Hikaru dance.”

“Keito, let’s go,” Yuuto speaks up, and one look at his face tells Keito they have to leave _now_ lest they really want to give Chinen something to watch.

“This group,” Chinen mutters as they leave, shaking his head as he lights another cigarette.

*

Yuuto may be taller, but Keito’s stronger and Yuuto doesn’t seem to mind being the one pinned to the bed, long limbs stretched out beneath Keito’s weight that settles neatly on top of him. His arms are looped around Keito’s neck, body pliable as Keito’s hands roam his torso, feeling the ribs and abdominal muscles under his shirt.

A soft noise dies on Keito’s tongue and Keito rushes to make it happen again, shoves his hands under Yuuto’s shirt to touch his skin directly, feeling him shudder. Keito wonders if it’s his first time being touched like this, doesn’t want to stop kissing him to ask, figuring Yuuto will let him know if he’s going too fast as he pushes up that damn shirt and pulls away just long enough to yank it over his head.

“I didn’t even think you liked guys,” Yuuto hisses during the split-second they’re apart, and Keito is so stunned that he just freezes, giving Yuuto an opportunity to pull off his shirt as well.

“I like you,” Keito says, feeling it with each syllable, and something inside him melts when Yuuto grins up at him. “It’s not because you’re a guy, it’s because you’re you.”

That seems to satisfy Yuuto, who pulls Keito back into his mouth as his own hands grasp onto the muscles of Keito’s back, squeezing hard enough to have Keito moving against him. They both gasp at the first slow grind of their arousals, something that’s entirely new to Keito. He’s not used to having something push back, just as hard as him, and it turns him on even more that it’s _Yuuto_ who’s clutching onto him and moaning into their kiss that grows hotter with each roll of their hips together.

“Keito,” Yuuto purrs, his low voice rumbling through Keito’s entire body and pooling right where Yuuto’s slowly but firmly snaking his hand between them. “Touch me too?”

Keito thinks that Yuuto could ask him to kill somebody in that voice and he’d probably do it without a second thought, so naturally he’s already reaching down to pop the button and lower the zipper of Yuuto’s pants. Yuuto just palms Keito’s erection through the fabric, pulling a gasp of pleasant surprise from Keito that Yuuto drinks down with a deep kiss.

Yuuto squeezes him pointedly and Keito rushes to catch up, opening Yuuto’s pants a bit hastily and shoving his hand inside. Yuuto’s cock is hard and heavy, his moan gorgeous as his hips rock up into Keito’s touch, which Yuuto quickly reciprocates by unfastening Keito’s pants and stroking him more confidently than someone with his level of ‘virtue’ should have.

“You’ve done this before,” Keito finally hisses, and Yuuto has the decency to look sheepish.

“It was cute how you kept thinking I hadn’t,” Yuuto replies, kissing the frown off of Keito’s face before dragging his lips up Keito’s jawline. “I couldn’t bring myself to correct you.”

Keito huffs, but he’s not really that mad about it. “Well, tell me what to do then.”

“What do you want to do?” Yuuto asks, too innocently for someone who’s completely flushed and breathing heavily, punctuating his question with another tight squeeze of Keito’s cock, thumbing the tip and making Keito shudder. “Say it and I’ll let you.”

“I wanna fuck you,” Keito breathes out, his voice all air as his hips back up his statement by snapping into Yuuto’s hand.

Yuuto just hums, retrieving something from his pocket before kicking off his pants. Keito helps him, following with his own until they’re skin to skin, Keito’s hands drawn towards the hairs on Yuuto’s thighs. This is a brand new feeling, he thinks, and he kind of likes it, pressing his mouth to Yuuto’s neck that stretches to give him more space to cover.

“You know you can’t just do this and then not call me again,” Yuuto says with an air of sarcasm that’s backed by truth.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Keito tells him, and he means it with every fibre of his being. His breath hitches in his throat when Yuuto places a tube in his hand and lifts his knees. Words Keito never expected to hear from this one filter into his ear, lips pressed against the shell as Keito follows directions and finds himself stretching Yuuto with one finger, then two, amazed at how Yuuto arches and squirms beneath him like he’s feeling something incredible.

It’s nothing like touching a girl, which turns Keito on so much more. Not just because it’s tighter, but because it’s new to him after so long of doing the same thing and because it’s Yuuto, his friend, falling apart from it. Keito already knows that this is going to surpass any sexual experience he’s ever had before and every nerve in his body is ready for it, adding a third finger when Yuuto tells him to and curling them on impulse.

Yuuto makes a beautiful sound and Keito does it again, leaning up to press their mouths together and feel those noises on his tongue. One of Yuuto’s hands threads through Keito’s hair and it’s really nice, an interesting contrast between the intimate gesture and what Keito’s doing inside him, which gets faster with each roll of Yuuto’s hips.

“Keito,” Yuuto says again, low and breathy, and Keito will do whatever he wants to keep hearing his name spoken like that. “I want you. I’m ready. Do it now, please.”

Now Keito moans, because hearing that from this person in this situation is as good as being touched in every sensitive spot he has at once. “Yuuto…”

Even if he had something to say after that, Yuuto would have stolen his words with such a fiery kiss that Keito doesn’t even process the motions of pulling out his fingers and rolling on a condom. He slathers on some more lube just to be careful, taking a second to appreciate the sight of Yuuto on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest as Keito kneels in position. He can barely see Yuuto’s eyes, but he knows Yuuto is looking up at him, face pink and lips plump and wet from kissing and Keito can’t wait anymore, leaning down to wrap his arms around Yuuto’s shoulders as he slowly pushes inside.

He doesn’t dare move, not when Yuuto’s body is protesting him so much, so tight that he breaks out into a sweat from the pressure. Yuuto’s too tall for Keito to kiss him properly like this, but he can press his lips to Yuuto’s chest in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Yuuto’s hands are clutching onto him yet again as he adjusts to having Keito inside him, trembling even more when Keito notices that Yuuto’s nipples are right next to his face and tentatively licks one.

“Move, please move,” Yuuto hisses, his body arching as Keito moves over to the other nipple. “I want to feel you, Keito, please.”

“Fuck,” Keito swears, followed by a groan he can’t hold back as he starts to pull out enough to slowly push back in.

“That’s the idea,” Yuuto says, and Keito glances up through his fringe to see Yuuto sticking out his tongue.

Keito makes a face back at him and thrusts more sharply, sending Yuuto’s head tilting back as he moans loud enough for the entire hotel to hear. Keito stares in awe at Yuuto’s neck all stretched out like that, shifting them both so that he can reach it long enough to taste the sweat beading on his throat, pressing himself even deeper in the process.

“Yeah, like that,” Yuuto goes on, and Keito snaps his hips hard enough to rock the bed. “Damn, Keito, I see why you’re so popular on campus now.”

“Will you shut the fuck up about that?” Keito grumbles, and Yuuto snickers until Keito grabs him by the ass and really pounds into him. That shuts him up, at least, though Keito’s just as distracted from those tight muscles squeezing him while looking down at Yuuto in the heat of passion. “I’m yours now,” he adds.

Yuuto just hums nonchalantly like he’s not getting his brains fucked out in his hotel bed. “You’re the one who won me, though.”

“Whatever.” Keito’s beyond done with talking, his hands spreading all over Yuuto’s body as he thrusts steadily, trying to make it last. He’s never wanted to stay inside someone so long before, his only regret being that he can’t reach Yuuto’s mouth to kiss him through it all, to feel those noises on his tongue and the hot breath on his face as he unites them over and over.

“Keito,” Yuuto breathes after a few minutes of rapid heartbeats and sporadic moaning, and Keito grunts in acknowledgement. “Touch me.”

Keito complies without thinking, wrapping his fingers firmly around Yuuto’s cock that jumps into his hand, but nothing could have prepared him for the way Yuuto tightens around his own length, so much that he chokes on his air. “Oh my god.”

Yuuto just moans, rocking up into the touch while pushing back against Keito and there’s no way Keito can last through this, not with Yuuto’s body squeezing his cock like that. “Yuuto,” he gets out, frantically trying to hold it back, but his hand seems to move on its own as it pulls Yuuto off faster and Keito’s orgasm hits him hard. He feels Yuuto’s fingers in his hair again in addition to everything else, making it until he feels the first squirt of release over his fingers before going completely under.

When he comes to, Yuuto’s still stroking his hair, and Keito does well enough to pull out and crawl up Yuuto’s body enough to rest his head on Yuuto’s shoulder. He rises and falls with the force of Yuuto’s breathing, which calms as he slowly lowers his legs and curls into Keito’s exhausted embrace.

“Mine,” Keito says, and Yuuto’s smiling as Keito leans in to claim his prize once again.

*

“Did you actually call me a slut monster?” Yamada asks, laughing as he flops in Keito’s lap in the practice room.

“There are like fourteen empty chairs,” Keito replies, gesturing grandly with the arm that’s not seized by the smaller member.

“Yeah, but that won’t get Yuuto nearly as jealous,” Yamada points out, and Keito looks over to where Yuuto’s eyeing them in a way that Keito finds both terrifying and very, very hot.

“For someone who lost, you’re sure taking it well,” Keito tells him, only a little haughtily.

Yamada grins. “For someone who wasn’t competing, you sure put up a good fight.”

Keito says nothing as he catches Yuuto’s eye and makes it clear that he disapproves of Yamada’s entire existence so close to him. Yuuto just shakes his head and launches into a drum solo.

“You’re welcome, you British bastard,” Yamada says, and Keito smiles over his shoulder.


End file.
